So far, Emily Dickinson wins the award for least interesting writer. It seems the majority of her poems are 3 lines long and more obscure than a Japanese haiku. As an isolated old hermit widow lady, she created some pretty strange stuff. I found a lot of her work to be depressing or lonely. Maybe this was specifically due to her situation in life as a hermit? To prove my point, I decided to pick an absolutely random Dickinson poem, guessing it would depress me. I was right. Here it is:
I REASON, earth is short, and anguish absolute. And many hurt; but what of that? I reason, we could die: the best vitality cannot excel decay; but what of that? I reason that in heaven somehow, it will be even, Some new equation given; but what of that?
Death, despair, anguish...That is Emily Dickinson.
Yes. I am afraid that I have not done a good job of showing you folks how good a poet she is. She is one of the most 'important' writers that we have studied. She really contrasts with Whitman who broke such new ground in his style and subject matter. Dickinson seems plain to me, but she does have an amazing grasp of the use of language. She does paint quite a picture; I just don't much care for the picture.
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